


Anubis & Cruelty

by goldenEY3



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: "Enhanced Interrogation Techniques", Cannibalism, Evil, Evil couple, F/F, Face-Heel Turn, Halloween, Horror, Rob Zombie-esque, Torture, Twisted, unholy matrimony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-12-07 12:21:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20975810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenEY3/pseuds/goldenEY3
Summary: Fareeha has acute dacnomania and an odd appetite.Angela has a suppressed sadistic streak and rapidly unraveling morals.The two women are drawn to each other, and are unable to resist the pull to the darker part of themselves and of the other, feeding off their hidden desires until they transform into something new.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do a quick little something for Halloween. So after asked myself what was the scariest thing I could imagine, I came up with an answer: “What if our birbs were _evil?_”  
I might’ve gone to a dark place/tapped into my inner Rob Zombie for this one. Check the tags, you’ve been warned.

Overwatch was back, and it felt good to return to her true home.

Fareeha inhaled deeply, pulling in the scent of the formerly emptied watch point. It smelled of time, time that had gone by and left the watch point in the past. It smelled of cobwebs and dust. It smelled abandon.

Fareeha mentally chastised herself for being so dramatic. Of course it smelled abandoned; it had sat nearly completely unused for the better part of two decades, with only Winston living there. Hopefully that was changing.

Winton’s call to arms, the recall order, had only been put out for the past two days, and Fareeha spent most of that time flying to answer it. Despite the quasi-homecoming, she was nervous. Fareeha had left her entire life behind to answer the call to return to Overwatch, but would it last? They were operating without the blessings of the UN, they could all be arrested for rejoining. Technically, Overwatch was now a rogue operation.

Fareeha had also brought her Raptora suit with her. It wasn’t exactly allowed, but it wasn’t explicitly stated that it had to remain with Helix. It was packed away, and once she was settled in, she’d unbox it, get it ready for action. So she slung her backpack over her off-shoulder and walked towards the base while she stressfully, absentmindedly, yet gently gnawed on her pinky.

When Fareeha was a girl, she was diagnosed with acute dacnomania, the intense compulsive desire to bite. She had to be constantly vigilant to not bite herself. But seeing Overwatch back, it made her slip up, relax. It was only when the pain became enough to bring her back to reality that Fareeha tried to curb her mania and pull her finger out of her mouth. She walked across the landing pad, the hired helicopter having dropping her off at the watch point.

Despite the dust, it felt like home. Fareeha was an Overwatch baby; she had grown up among the watch points, getting to know it like only a military brat could. Underneath the dust and cobwebs, it smelled of dried sweat, gunmetal, oil, and in her mind, the sacrifice of countless men and women. Then again, Fareeha knew she was prone to dramatics. The smell was so welcoming that her mania faded, and she was able to keep her finger out of her mouth, placing it at her thigh instead of gnawing at it like she did whenever she was alone and stressed.

“Fareeha? Fareeha Amari?”

Fareeha looked up, and saw a ghost approach her.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” Jack Morrison said.

“Jack? Mr. Morrison?” She gasped.

“I see your habit of addressing me hasn’t changed since you were a kid,” Jack grinned.

“We all thought you were dead.”

Jack offered her a hand, which she quickly shook.

“Being in a massive explosion does that,” he chuckled. “Let me guess: you got the recall order from your mother’s old comm system, right?”

“You know I could never get rid of her things.”

“Right now, I’m glad of it. If you answered the call, you’ll be seeing a few other ghosts pop up. Come on in, I’ll introduce you.”

Jack led her inside the base. Fareeha did her best not to gasp; she knew that Overwatch had been abandoned for over ten years, but seeing the base in such a state of disrepair, it truly cut at her heart.

The base she had spent her childhood running around was a few steps away from being covered with cobwebs. Dust was building up in the corners, paint had faded, and the metal that made up the walls of the cargo bay and floor were a few days from becoming rusted.

But the men and women of Overwatch were returning to duty. They were working in groups, cleaning the dirty rooms of the watch point, working to restore it to its former glory. Fareeha was tempted to volunteer, but her skills and talents were not in cleaning. She was skilled in protecting, in unleashing violence against the enemy, whomever it was at the time.

“You came really goddamn quick,” Jack said as they walked into a meeting room. “But there were a few people who just barely beat you here.”

“I hope you’re not counting me,” Winston laughed. He was the literally eight-hundred pound gorilla in the room. “I was always here.”

“Come on, Winston. You are, were, and forever shall be the exception to the rule,” Jack grinned, turning to Fareeha. “I hate to say it, but Winston, Reinhardt, Lena, and Angela got here maybe a half hour earlier.”

Fareeha couldn’t hear him. Her eyes were locked on the gorgeous blonde doctor Angela Zieglier. Ever since she could remember, Fareeha had had a massive crush on the Swiss prodigy.

Angela smiled back at her. It made Fareeha’s heart flutter.

“Fareeha? You mind saying ‘hi?’” Jack asked.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” she stammered, trying to get a hold of herself. Goddammit, Angela was still as beautiful as she remember her. No, that wasn’t right; she had become even _more_ beautiful!

She brought herself up and gave a crisp salute.

“I’m Fareeha Amari, but everyone probably already knows that.”

“Fareeha? You serious, is that really you?” Lena smiled. “Fucking hell, it’s been forever and a half! Goddamn, did you grown; I didn’t recognize you!”

“It _has_ been forever,” Winston chuckled. He gently patted her shoulder. “It looks like you finally got your wish to join Overwatch.”

“Yes, you are finally living your dream,” Reinhardt roared.

“It seems so,” Fareeha croaked, staring at Angela.

“Then let’s hope we can make it last longer that the first time,” Angela smiled.

Seeing Angela smile, Fareeha felt like floating away.

“No need to hope,” she said. “Why hope when we can make it better?”

“Yes, the classic Nietzsche argument,” Winston laughed. “God is dead, so we must make our own future. Well, if you want to help us, we have plenty of positions we need filled! Let’s get you to work!”

* * *

Fareeha gasped as she carried the heavy box into the medical wing. Finally, she made her way to the proper room.

“Hello,” she called, hitting the door with her elbow. The box she was carrying was too damn heavy; she couldn’t take her hands off it to properly knock. “Hello? Anyone?”

The door opened, and Angela welcomed her in.

“Oh! Thank you,” Angela beamed. “I hope this wasn’t too much to ask of you.”

“Just let me put this somewhere,” Fareeha gasped, staggering into the room. Despite the weight, she gently set the box down on the nearest table. “Good Allah, what do you have in there?”

“Just several pieces of delicate equipment,” Angela said. “You remember how I created nanobiotics?”

“How couldn’t I? They’re changing the world,” Fareeha said, catching her breath.

“I’m so glad you remember,” Angela laughed. Fareeha would never admit it, but she kept track of Angela during the years, almost cyber-stalking her. “Well, this is something that can help me increase the plasticity of those nanobiotic particles. If I can improve them, I can help heal more people.”

“That was something I always loved about you,” Fareeha smiled. “You are so dedicated to helping heal others.”

“Why, thank you,” Angela beamed. “What of you? It has been too many years since we were able to talk. What have you been up to?”

“Just working,” Fareeha said, mopping the sweat off her brow. “Maybe working too hard, but I love my job.”

“What is it you are doing?”

“I’m the chief of security for Helix Security International,” Fareeha said, bursting with pride. “We secure the most sensitive locations in the world.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of Helix,” Angela smiled. “They have an excellent defense team.”

“Y-yes, that’s right,” Fareeha said, bursting out blushing. “I like to think I’m part of the reason they have such a good reputation.”

“You’re so dedicated to your duty,” Angela laughed. “That’s what I love about you.”

Fareeha’s heart soared high, and her crush on Angela redoubled.

The alarms blew, warning them of an attack.

“Oh, of all the times to interrupt us,” Angela spat.

“Interrupt?” Fareeha stammered.

“Yes, interrupt,” Angel said. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, and I want to see more of you.”

That got Fareeha to blush wildly yet again.

“W-well, plenty of me to see after this mission,” she stammered. “You haven’t seen the Raptora armor that Helix gave me; I can truly fly with it! Come on, let’s defend the innocents of the world.”

“I wouldn’t say we’re all innocent,” Angela grinned wickedly.

Fareeha thought she would burst into flames.

“But let’s save them all the same,” she winked.

* * *

Fareeha hissed in pain as she staggered into the medical bay, her Raptora armor covered in her drying blood.

“I told you not to take too many risks,” Angela spat, following her into the sterile room.

“But I had to save you,” Fareeha said, stripping the top part of her armor off.

“I was perfectly fine! You didn’t need to take that bullet for me,” Angela huffed.

Angela pushed her to an examination table that sat by the wall, and began rooting around for first aid supplies. She bent over, and Fareeha couldn’t help but stare at her full, lovely ass. It made Fareeha bite her thumb, minutely giving into her dacnomania. She wanted to sink her teeth into something else, but biting her thumb was enough relief. For the time.

“And what if I didn’t want you to get hurt?” Fareeha grinned as Angela walked back, forcing herself to take her thumb out of her mouth.

“Sometimes I’m not sure why I even bother,” Angela huffed, making her way back to the table. “Now shut up. You got shot in the arm, no? Off with the shirt, I have to examine you.”

Fareeha was long since out of the top portion of her armor. She peeled of her moister wicking shirt with her good arm, leaving her in only a sports bra from the waist up. Angela examined her.

“Oh good, it’s a clean-through,” she said, scanning the wound with her professional eyes. “And here I was worrying I’d have my work cut out for me. Let’s get this cleaned up.”

Fareeha hissed as Angela quickly disinfected the wound.

“Now to seal it.”

Angela brought her Caduceus staff around, and began pumping nanobiotic particles into her shoulder. Fareeha yelped as the beam hit her. She had read that it was supposed to be as pain-free as possible, but this hurt like a bitch!

Fareeha bit into the flesh between her thumb and index finder to keep herself from crying out. She could taste her skin, amplified by the dried sweat and flakes of drying blood.

Her blood was salty, tangy, and tasty. Fareeha knew that was her dacnomania compulsion acting up; she tried to banish it to the back of her mind. But with the nanobiotics both hurting and healing her, she couldn’t help but hiss in pain.

“Easy,” Angela said, a callous glint in her eyes, “I’ve got you.”

The pain in her shoulder increased, and Fareeha didn’t know if she could take any more. She bit harder, and fresh blood welled in her mouth, the tart, coppery taste exploded against her tongue, washing away the stale taste of her dried blood.

Ever since she was a little girl, her mother tried to wean her from biting things. At first, it was other children, but as she grew and was denied the chance to bite other people, Fareeha took to biting herself. Her mother had taken brutal steps to control her compulsion, and while her mother was alive, it had worked.

But her mother had died long ago. Fareeha had kept up the habits as long as she could, but as the years slid by, it had lessened.

Fareeha bit herself harder, eventually overriding the pain in her hand. Blood surged in her mouth, but suddenly she had bitten into her hand. Her teeth dug in, breaking her skin, and suddenly Fareeha could taste the red meat that sat between her thumb and forefinger, nearly made her cross-eyed with pleasure. This is what she wanted, even if it was from herself.

Just as she was adjusting to the taste of her own flesh, the pain in her shoulder stopped, and sweet relief snapped her back to reality.

“There,” Angela cooed. “Done.”

Fareeha wanted to keep biting, but years of hiding her obsession kicked in.

“Oh, good,” she stammered, pulling her hand from her mouth. She looked over at her shoulder; it was perfectly healed, not even a scar was left. She idly licked up the blood on her lips. “I thought it would take forever.”

“Not forever,” Angela laughed. “Just long enough.”

Fareeha was so stunned, so out of her normal habit, she didn’t know what to say.

“Oh my, I must have been too rough,” Angela said, looking at her hand. “You’ve bitten your hand up!”

That got Fareeha to blush in shame.

“I-it was just because of the pain,” she stammered. “Nothing more.”

“The human mouth is filthy,” Angela said. “I have to examine this, make sure no infection sets in.”

“It’s fine, really. I’ve done this before, I just need some disinfecting wipes.”

“Nonsense, I need to examine you,” Angela insisted.

“Please, I’m fine,” Fareeha gasped.

“Come on, let me look at this,” Angela said, holding her hand steady. “My word, I might need to trim some of the flesh off.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“I’m not exaggerating when I say the human mouth is filthy,” Angela said. “If we’re not careful, a bite can lead to an infection, or even turn gangrenous. That could lead to a loss of limbs, or death. Do you want that?”

“I—I just want to be left alone…”

“Too bad, you’re getting my help,” Angela said with a malevolent smile. Then she pulled out a pair of surgical scissors. “Now hold still, I can’t let this skin turn necrotic.”

“I’m fine!” Fareeha tried to move away, but Angela pinned her arm against her side.

“And I want to make sure you stay that way,” Angela grinned. It was not a nice grin, it was the kind of grin that made Fareeha wonder how a doctor could relish such a chance to cut her up.

Fareeha saw the scissors getting closer to her. Between the lingering adrenaline of battle, the pain of the Caduceus healing, her bitten hand, the surgical scissors drawing closer and closer to her hand, and Angela’s wicked smile, Fareeha panicked. She thrashed and kicked, and ended up kicking Angela into the wall. The blonde medic’s head hit the wall with a sickening ‘thud.’

“Angela?”

Angela slumped to the ground. She was out cold, her limbs splayed.

“…Angela?”

Realization washed over her. She had taken off the top part of her Raptora armor, but her legs were still sealed in them. The armor had read her movements, and did what it was supposed to do: amplify her strength. Her strengthened kick then sent Angela into the wall.

“Oh shit.”

She jumped off the table, ignoring the pain in her hand. She ran over to Angela.

“Wake up! Oh…oh fuck…”

Fareeha had kicked Angela so hard, the surgical scissors in her hand snapped shut with incredible force. The terrible thing was, they had closed around something; Angela’s left hand was missing it’s pinky finger. The second knuckle from the top had been cut clean off.

“Oh Allah, oh fuck,” Fareeha stammered. What was she supposed to do? She wasn’t a medic! All she knew was basic first aid!

“Angela, wake up!” She gently shook the medic, but Angela was out cold, eyes unfocused, her hand bleeding. “Fuck fuck fuck!”

Fareeha spun around, but pain made her blink. She had unconsciously shoved her hand back into her mouth, and was biting herself, hard. She let go, taking her hand out of her mouth. This is what got her into this damned situation in the first place! Damn her mania!

“Stop, breathe,” she said, speaking to herself. “You’re not helping by panicking. Breathe. What are you supposed to do? Calm down, remember your first aid training.”

That helped a little, which was better than nothing. But her heart was still beating wildly.

“Secure the patient, make sure she doesn’t bleed out any more,” Fareeha said. She had never taken care of a medic before, usually it was the other way around. Angela’s hand was bleeding, so she grabbed a roll of gauze and clumsily wrapped her hand up.

“Severed limb, Allah,” she babbled. “Find it, bag it, keep it cool, reattach it later.”

Fareeha looked around the room, trying to find where the finger rolled away. Copper hit her tongue; she had bitten her hand again. But this time, it was different. She tasted blood, but there was something else that was there. Something sweeter, something that wasn’t her blood.

She found Angela’s finger by the examination table. She picked it up gingerly with one hand, her other hand still in her mouth. And for the first time since this horror show started, she felt calm. Stress was leaving her body as she bit and sucked at her hand.

“What now?” She mumbled, holding Angela’s finger.

Then she realized the hand in her mouth was covered in Angela’s blood. She was tasting Angela’s blood, sucking at it, savoring it, drinking it.

The room felt like it was spinning. She couldn’t be doing this! But she tasted her own blood all the time, thanks to her mania. Was this so bad…?

Fareeha shook her head, pulling her hand out of her mouth. No, this is what she didn’t want to be, some freak who bit people.

“Ice pack,” she mumbled. “Ice pack. Bag the finger, wrap it up, keep it cool, no direct exposure to cold…”

She looked at Angela’s finger. A few drops of blood leaked out. It had tasted so good…

Her pulse was thundering in her ears, and the room seemed to shrink. She tried to stop herself from moving, but her body rebelled against her. Before Fareeha knew what was happening, she was licking the blood on Angela’s finger. The coppery taste was just like her own blood, but it seemed so different, so savory, so raw, so _delectable_. And she realized just how hungry she was.

It was like a force was moving her, dragging her along, making her a passenger in her own body. Fareeha sunk her teeth into the finger, feeling Angela’s flesh give away against her teeth. It was nothing like biting herself; when she bit herself, the pain would keep her from biting too hard. But this, this was different.

She felt Angela’s flesh being pierced by her teeth, she felt her heart swell with the pleasure of biting, and she kept biting until she had a tiny chunk of flesh in her mouth. She twisted her head, feeling Angela’s skin peel, stretching further and further and further until it snapped free, leaving her with a tiny part of the blonde doctor in her mouth.

The taste of Angela’s flesh exploded in Fareeha’s mouth as her tongue tasted her. Angela was delectable, savory, tender, she was the finest cut of meat Fareeha had ever had. Fareeha didn’t know why, maybe it was reflex, but she chewed, relishing the feeling of the meat being ground down by her teeth, the taste dance along her tongue, and swallowed.

That was it. That little taste undid her. Fareeha tore into the finger, biting more and more, pulling off pieces of the savory flesh, then she was chewing it, and the next thing she knew, she was swallowing it. She ate more and more, tearing off pieces of Angela’s finger, until she was down to the bone of the first knuckle. She moved up, tearing off bits of flesh and muscle, until she was at the nail.

She sucked at the bones. Fareeha had eaten Angela’s finger. She ate everything. And she needed more.

A chuckle snapped her out of her haze. She looked up, blood on her face. Angela had come to. The doctor was sitting up, looking at her. Fareeha’s vision darkened as the world closed in on her. The only thing she could feel was shock and shame, but she couldn’t take the finger bone out of her mouth.

“Well,” Angela smiled. “This is interesting.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Dammit Angela, why didn’t you say something?” Jack exploded.

“There were others who were hurt worse than me,” Angela politely answered.

“So you think you can just ‘walk off’ a severed finger?”

“It’s just a pinky. There are a few unobtrusive prostheses that I can wear. Actually, this can be a perfect time to test the new regenerative capabilities of my nanobiotics.”

“That doesn’t excuse you for being so damn careless! The bullet that took your finger could’ve taken your life!”

Fareeha felt like she was disassociating. It was like this wasn’t real life, but rather a movie she was watching, or a story she was reading.

Everyone was in a common room; Fareeha sat in the far corner, wearing casual clothes. After eating Angela’s finger, she let the medic clean her own bitten hand, painlessly this time, then took a shower as the medic saw to her new stump. She kept expecting Angela to yell and scream and run away from her, but Angela simply smiled, and led her about, eventually taking her to the common room for the planned debriefing. She smile wickedly at Fareeha, keeping her in terrifying, stressful suspense.

And now, here they were, performing a routine after-action review of the battle. Jack, Winston, Reinhardt, and Lena were all there, and Fareeha was waiting for Angela to tell everyone the truth about her, about what she had done, what she had eaten. What she didn’t expect was for Angela to lie about what happened to her finger.

Fareeha kept her own fingers laced together, squeezing so hard her skin was turning white, and kept her hands pinned between her knees. She knew that deep down she _wanted_ to bite something, yet for the first time she could remember, she didn’t feel like biting. Her mania had truly abated. She was content, at peace, although she was still a little hungry.

That just scared her all the more. That made Fareeha shut her mouth and lock herself down like she was a deaf mute.

“Angela, are you truly okay?” Reinhardt asked. “Losing a limb, even if it’s a finger, can be devastating to a person. When I lost my eye, I had to receive PTSD counseling.”

“Thank you Reinhardt, but I’m fine, really,” she said, waving his concern off with her maimed hand. Fareeha stared at the gauze-wrapped stump.

“If she’s up and talking, that counts for something, yeah?” Lena chuckled nervously.

“I guess it does,” Jack sighed. “Fine. We’ll let you off the hook with this. Go check on yourself, we’ll have a meeting on our next course of action later.”

“Fareeha?” Angela smiled. “I’d like to check your arm out, make sure it’s healing right. Please, come with me.”

Angela walked over, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. Fareeha moved automatically, unable to control herself, letting Angela led her back to the hospital wing, and into an unused examination room. Angela closed and locked the door.

“Angela,” Fareeha babbled, finally finding her voice, “I…I don’t know what came over me! I’m so sorry, Allah, I…oh, what did I do? I didn’t mean to kick you, I didn’t mean to cut your finger off, it was an accident, I got too carried away and, and I…I…”

“Was I good?”

Those three words stopped the deluge of apologies that fell from her lips. Fareeha stared at Angela, who was still smiling at her.

“…Huh?”

“Was I good?” Angela asked again. “You were really picking my finger clean. It must’ve been good, right?”

Fareeha was struck dumb.

“No? Not your taste?” Angela chuckled.

“You were great,” she croaked.

“Ah, the truth comes out,” Angela laughed. “I’m glad. I mean, I did lose a finger, but at least it was worth it.”

“Angela,” Fareeha stammered. “W-what are you talking about?”

“I just wanted to know if my sacrifice was to your liking. You were so caught up in your mad attempt to take care of my finger, you barely noticed I came to. So imagine my surprise when you started eating my finger. What did I taste like?”

Fareeha was getting tired of feeling like the world was dropping out beneath her.

“I…I can’t describe it,” she said. “It was sweet, savory, the blood so tangy and full, so tender, the taste exploded in my mouth like a summer sausage. It’s like nothing I ever had before.”

“Mmm,” Angela moaned, licking her lips. Fareeha squirmed. “Did it taste like you?”

“What?” She stammered.

“Fareeha, I know your medical history; you suffer from acute dacnomania. You’ve been biting yourself for years; your mother asked me for help to curb that mania, and I think I’ve done an okay job considering mental afflictions are not my forte. But I was always curious; what was it like to bite someone? What made you do it? And after biting yourself for so long, did you get a taste for yourself?”

“I…I…” Fareeha swallowed. “I _do_ like the taste of my blood…”

“Interesting,” Angela breathed. “Go on.”

“And I love the feeling of flesh against my teeth.” Fareeha was talking now, and doubted she could stop. “But the pain, it always held me back. I couldn’t truly give into it, I had to ease up on the pressure, I had to stop before I could enjoy the feeling of my teeth slicing through flesh. There have been a few times I bit myself until I drew blood, and I did like that, but I hated fighting through the pain, I hated stopping.”

“But since you had my finger, you weren’t held back by that pain.”

“Yes. I could finally bite and chew like I wanted.”

“And you liked the feeling of my flesh against your teeth?”

“I loved it,” Fareeha croaked, shivering with delight. “The feeling of my teeth cutting through your tender flesh…it sent electricity through my skin. Feeling it resist, then tear, it was everything I ever wanted! B-but Angela, why are you asking me this? Why didn’t you tell everyone? Why keep this a secret?”

“I’m not exactly the angelic doctor everyone believes I am,” she smiled brutally. “Don’t get me wrong, I love helping people and healing the injured, but what I truly love about being a doctor is the surgery.”

“You mean you like cutting them up to heal them?”

“That’s what surgery is. When I was a girl, I couldn’t wait to be a doctor, I couldn’t wait to cut people open. You know my parents died in the Crisis, yes? Well, the orphanage I was raised in was next to a large field. And those fields had a plethora of rabbits. I gently caught a few, and played doctor with them. Feeding them, petting them, nursing them to health, showing them off to the other girls, and every so often, cutting them open.”

Fareeha could only stare as Angela’s eyes grew misty with memory.

“Sometimes I miss those days,” she sighed dreamily. “The rabbits were so cute, so soft, and they didn’t struggle too much when I took a knife to them. Oh, they thrashed about wildly, but they were weak, even to a little girl. It didn’t take much to hold them down. I learned so much about rabbits, many of the girls thought I’d become a veterinarian!”

Fareeha realized she was breathing very deeply, and her heart was slamming against her ribs.

“W-were you caught?”

“Even back then, I was very much aware of how I had to keep that little desire of mine buried deep,” Angela said. “Some part of me knew it wasn’t becoming of a little girl to carve up rabbits. I did it when I was sure I could get away with it, but I realized I was doing it more and more and more. I wanted to be a doctor more than I wanted to cut up rabbits; they were for me to practice on, not get caught with! So, I made myself stop.”

“How did you do that?”

“Have you ever heard of a ‘memory palace?’”

“You mean like imagining a place where you would physically store memories?”

“That’s exactly it. A teacher taught me about them, said it would help me be a doctor. I made my memory palace when I had to be about twelve, and I found another use for it soon after. I asked myself what I wanted more: to cut up people, or rabbits: people were always the answer.

“So to get to cutting up people, I took the part of me that wanted to cut and hurt, I led it to the basement of my memory palace, I locked it away, and never let it out. It hurt sealing that part of me away. I was antsy and moody for a very long time, but it got me to stop cutting up rabbits. It kept me normal. It got me to medical school.”

It had to be getting hot in there, Fareeha felt like she was burning up.

“What about when you became a doctor?” She asked, breathing deeply. “Did you…I mean, you always seemed to disgusted with Moira and her ethics…er, lack of ethics. Did anything happen then?”

“Moira,” Angela sneered. “_That _bitch. I guess a little of her rubbed off on me. Either that, or she was able to wear down the mental locks that hid the sadistic part of me. Maybe she had a hand in releasing it, rejoining it with myself, making me whole again. I truly do love healing others, but it gets so…simple. So mundane. So…_boring_.”

“But you’ve been healing people for years in the Red Cross. Did…I mean, did you…?”

“Hurt any of them? Good God, no!” Angela gasped. “I’d like to think that I have _some_ morals left, thank you very much. Besides, I don’t take any pleasure in hurting the destitute. Where’s the fun in kicking a person when they’re already down?”

“So you’re what, a sadist?”

“Oh, most definitely,” Angela laughed. “Have you heard of little girls cutting up rabbits as they gossiped with their friends?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Fareeha chuckled. “But it’s not like you can’t control yourself. Does that…make you different? Make you not a sadist? Something like that?”

“I’ve had plenty of time to think about that, to try and diagnose myself,” she said. “Aside from my secret sadistic streak, I think what I have is a sense of apathy, a numbing of morals.”

“’Numbing of morals?’”

“Fareeha, I’ve been in active war zones for over ten years,” Angela said. “I’ve seen countless atrocities, and it doesn’t sicken me anymore. Don’t get me wrong, the first three crimes against humanity are the worst, but it just gets…dull. I believe Jack would say it becomes ‘old hat.’”

“You sound like a sociopath.”

“One does not simply ‘become’ a sociopath,” Angela huffed.

“You just sat here and told me that you used to vivisect rabbits when you were a girl, and that war crimes don’t bother you,” Fareeha said. “I mean, isn’t the rabbit thing alone a big red flag? Like, little to no sympathy or something like that?”

“Sadism can be a number of mental diagnosis.”

Fareeha pulled out her phone and did a quick Wikipedia search.

“Dear Allah, ‘sociopath’ sounds just like you. Listen: ‘impaired empathy and remorse, bold, disinhibited, and egotistical traits.’”

“Oh look, another armchair professor from the University of Wikipedia,” Angela sneered. “Again, one does not simply ‘become’ a sociopath. Believe me, I earned my doctoral when I was seventeen.”

“There’s the egotistical traits,” Fareeha smiled.

Angela glared at her. The longer Angela looked at her, the larger Fareeha’s smile grew.

“I suppose it’s possible that I’ve misdiagnosed myself, or downplayed the sadism when I was a girl,” she reluctantly admitted, disdain in her voice. “It’s possible that the trauma of seeing my parents die at such an early age could have been the catalyst, or provided the acceleration which led me here.”

“So you’re a sociopath.”

“If I must be a sociopath, then I’m a _high-functioning _sociopath,” she said haughtily. “After all, I am a world-renowned doctor and inventor of one of the greatest advances in medical history. One cannot do that if they’re prone to bouts of madness.”

“You’ve got the ego for it, that’s for damn sure,” Fareeha laughed. Her humor didn’t last. She swallowed hard. “B-but why…? Why are you not scared of me? I…I ate your finger.”

“Honestly, I’m far more curious than anything else,” Angela grinned, recovering her brutal charm. “I’ve never seen anything like this, felt nothing like it! Don’t you find it thrilling?”

“No!”

“I think you do,” Angela said, leaning forward. That made Fareeha lean back until she was pressed against the wall. She swallowed hard.

“I…yes, I do,” Fareeha gasped.

“Now that is what I truly love,” Angela said, her grin stretching even wider, revealing even more teeth. “The moment of truth where everything is revealed.”

Angela was so close to her, Fareeha could feel her breath on her lips.

“T-then what happens now?”

“Call me dramatic, but I think we have to stick together,” Angela said. “After all, you do have a piece of me in you.”

Fareeha laughed despite her best attempts not to.

“You are _so_ dramatic,” she smiled. “A dramatic, sadistic sociopath.”

“A dramatic, sadistic, _high-functioning_ sociopath, thank you very much,” Angela laughed.

* * *

For the next three days, Fareeha felt like she was walking on eggshells. She was so sure that word of what truly happened to Angela’s finger would break out. Yet nothing happened. Overwatch was slowly reforming, everyone was talking with her, and Angela never told anyone what happened.

In fact, Angela found endless excuses to stay around Fareeha day in and day out, which both teased Fareeha, and stressed her out. She was waiting for the truth to come out. She was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Finally, during breakfast with Angela, her curiosity got the better of her.

“When did you find that out about yourself?” She asked.

“Find out what?” Angela asked, demurely buttering her toast.

Fareeha looked around. There were men and women in the mess hall, but they were left alone, with several feet of space between anyone.

“When you were re-introduced to this whole ‘maybe sociopathy’ thing,” she whispered. “I mean, you said you buried that part of you when you were a girl so you’d stop cutting rabbits up. But when did you truly believe that you were...well, sadistic? Or sociopathic, or whatever?”

“About a year after Overwatch dissolved,” Angela said. “I had just joined the Red Cross, and we were deployed to help ease a small civil war in Yemen. It was good work helping those poor souls. But then one day, a group of Yemen soldiers burst in to our camp. They had been attacked, and barely got away with their lives. They needed help, and the Hippocratic Oath demanded that we help them.”

“Don’t tell me you killed anyone.”

“Of course not, but I’m sure a few other doctors wished the soldiers had died,” she laughed. “I was treating one soldier when I recognized his unit patch. He was a rebel soldier, trying to overthrow the government. A few days before, said rebel army detonated a chemical weapon in a civilian market.

“I was there to witness the fallout. The suffering they unleashed on their own people…it cut through my apathy and numbed morals and truly astounded me. Now that I think about it, that was the second war crime I had personally witnessed.”

“Were you scared?”

“Hardly; I was angry! So when I found that out about the soldier, I went back to treating him. Sadly, I just so happened to have run out of anesthesia and painkillers.”

That got Fareeha to stop.

“It felt good,” Angela sighed. “I was helping avenge the people who died those long, agonizing, horrible deaths. The soldier had been shot a few times, and the bullets were just a _little_ too close to vital organs or arteries to safely remain; so I removed them all. Slowly. One, by, one.”

Angela was smiling at the memory. Fareeha felt like she should have been scared, but for some reason, she felt perfectly safe with Angela. Her heart beat faster, she squirmed in her seat, and she felt a very familiar tingle between her legs.

“I took my time, making sure that I was careful with removing the bullets and treating the wounds,” Angela said, her smile turning from one of a good memory into something much more merciless. “By the time I was done, the soldier had passed out from the pain. I hear he’s still alive.”

Copper ran along Fareeha’s tongue. She had bitten her hand again.

“Still have a taste for blood?” Angela giggled.

“It’s a compulsion,” Fareeha mumbled, dabbing at her hand with a napkin.

“I can always give you a shot of my Caduceus staff.”

“No thanks, the last time hurt way too much.”

“I think I should come clean,” the not-so-angelic doctor chuckled. “I turned down the painkilling settings when I treated you.”

“You what?!”

“I just made it hurt a little more,” Angela breathed.

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re a big, strong soldier,” she said, running her hand over Fareeha’s shoulder. It made her shiver. “I knew you could take it.”

“You hurt me just because you thought I could take it?”

“I’m also told that you always hurt the ones you love,” Angela winked. “Considering my suppressed history with inflicting pain, I guess it just comes naturally to me.”

That got Fareeha to stop.

“Y-you love me?” She gasped.

“You’ve grown into a very beautiful woman,” Angela said. “And you were so _very_ cute growing up. I missed my chance to eat you up back then, but I don’t want to miss my chance now.”

“Isn’t this crossing a line?”

Angela held up her hand. Fareeha stared at her missing pinky, still wrapped in gauze.

“Isn’t that?”

“What happened to Mercy?” Fareeha stammered. But at the same time, she was getting hotter and hotter, breathing deeper and deeper. “This doesn’t seem like you.”

“You know, I think I’ve been Mercy for so long maybe it’s time for a bit of Cruelty,” Angela said, her rictus grin stretching to her ears. It was like extra teeth were sprouting from her head. “Besides, don’t you want to cross a few lines with me…?”

* * *

Fareeha practically kicked open the door to her room. She was holding Angela in her arms as the blonde medic kissed her, her legs wrapped around Fareeha’s core. She was barely able to kick the door shut before she threw Angela onto her bed and pulled the doctor’s shirt off.

Angela grabbed her, pulling her close, pulling her clothes off, and Fareeha pressed her face into Angela’s two lovely breasts, running her tongue over a nipple.

“Oh, don’t bite me _there_,” Angela giggled as she undressed the rest of her.

Fareeha almost couldn’t help herself; almost. Whining with effort, she let go of Angela’s breasts.

“I never told you to stop,” Angela hissed. Fareeha shivered as Angela teased her slick folds, eventually pushing two fingers into her, making her gasp. “Keep going. Just don’t bite me.”

It took all of her effort to fight her mania. She wanted Angela, she wanted her all, wanted all of her blood and her delicious flesh.

“Don’t stop now,” Angela said, plunging her fingers deep into her.

“B-but…” Fareeha croaked, squirming around her fingers.

“Your mania,” Angela sighed. “Very well. I guess you can give into that little urge of yours. Just not my breasts.”

Like she could ruin such beautiful things. Fareeha ended up biting Angela’s shoulder. She nearly came on the spot as Angela’s savory blood welled in her mouth.

“Aah! J-just bite my shoulder, I don’t want to give up any more fingers to you,” Angela groaned. “I kind of need them right now.”

Despite her best efforts, Fareeha ended up biting her again, but gently, only enough to draw some of her delicious blood. Fareeha lapped it up, tasting the sweet copper that spilled from her veins. Even just a taste made her go wild, grinding her hips against Angela’s probing fingers, driving both of them wild.

“M-maybe I should get you a muzzle!”

* * *

Fareeha flew through the air in her Raptora suit. They had finally gotten a mission, in Egypt to boot. Maybe that’s all she needed, a return to the normal. She was going through life just fine, but this…this _thing_ she had with Angela was consuming her mind. She just needed some action to help get her to think straight.

_Talon to the right,_ Jack said on the radio. _Reinhardt, cover us, we need to push up._

_Already there!_ Reinhardt yelled jovially.

Looking down, Fareeha could see the big man bring his shield up, blocking the team from enemy fire. The taste of metal filled her mouth. Blinking, she realized she had put her gauntleted hand in her mouth. Growling with disgust, she renewed her grip on her rocket launcher as she hovered in the air just above a second-story walkway.

_Winston, can you take out there back lines? We need to put pressure on them._

_I’ll just drop on in,_ Winston laughed, activating his jump-jets.

“I’m covering you from above,” Fareeha said, shooting a few rockets to encourage the Talon men to keep their heads down.

_Make sure you cover our flank, we’re moving up._

“Solid copy.”

Down below, she could see Angela healing Lena, getting her back into the fight. Angela looked up, and smiled at her.

Fareeha’s stomach flipped with joy.

A burst of gunfire snapped her back to reality. A Talon team had found their way up to the second-story walkway she was hovering over, and were shooting at her.

It was reflex. Fareeha shot a concussive round at them to scatter them. A few were knocked off the walkway, tumbling to the streets below; Jack and Lena were quick to engage. That gave Fareeha enough time to maneuver onto the walkway. If they hit her jets, the fuel could detonate.

Bullets pinged off her armor as she unloaded her rockets into the remaining solders. She hissed as each bullet slammed into her. Even though her armor kept the bullets from penetrating, it still hit her like a sledgehammer.

Fareeha ran across the walkway, into a nearby room. She thumbed the ejection switch on her launcher, and reached for another magazine. A man let lose a battle cry. Looking up, one Talon soldier was charging, braving her rocket blasts; he was the last Talon man standing. He launched himself at her, bringing his rifle up to bash her head in.

Fareeha barely blocked it. The rifle hit her arm, throwing her to the ground. Her jet pack kept her upper back off the ground, her rocket launcher knocked from her hands. She reached for her sidearm.

The Talon soldier saw her reaching for her pistol. He had foregone a helmet; Fareeha saw the look of realization dawned in his eyes. The soldier threw his rifle at her, knocking her pistol from her hand. He jumped at Fareeha, drawing a combat knife from his boot.

She grabbed his knife hand as the Talon man landed on her chest; his leg pinned her other arm to the ground. Her back protested as her jet pack kept her upper back from touching the ground, but her hips were being driven downward by the Talon soldier. Hissing in pain, she tried to hold back the knife.

The Talon soldier hissed as he tried to force the knife down to end her life. She had no options. Fareeha tried to kick her legs to buck the man off, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Fucking Overwatch,” he spat. “Think you can just take over the world? You fuckers!”

Fareeha could feel her pulse in her ears. Her strength, amped by her armor, faltered. The Talon soldier had leverage, he had his weight driving the knife closer to her. Sooner or later, her strength would give out.

“No one’s coming for you,” he grinned, inches above her face. “Just let this—“

Fareeha did the only things she could. She lunged up, biting his exposed neck.

The soldier screamed. Fareeha could taste his sweat, feel the vibrations of his vocal cords through her teeth and lips. As she bit harder, she relished the feeling of her teeth breaking his skin, and reveled in the sensation of his blood gushed into her mouth. It was hot, salty, but oddly sweet. She could practically taste the adrenaline in his blood, intoxicating beyond all measure.

Poise and training went out the window as the man’s most basic instincts took over. He dropping his knife and thrashed and flailed, his reptilian brain doing everything he could to get Fareeha to let go of his neck.

“Bitch!” He gurgled, flailing against her. “Psycho—!”

Fareeha bit harder, and his larynx give way with a satisfying crunch. Her heart spiked in her chest as blood gushed out. The man thrashed even more, screaming through broken vocal cords. Now it was Fareeha’s turn to succumb to the brain’s most basic instincts. Fareeha shook her head like a dog, feeling the flesh and cartilage in the man’s throat rip and tear.

He tried to scream, but it came out a gurgle as blood poured down his throat. He thrashed, letting go of her pinned arm. Fareeha placed that hand on his chest, and pulled her head back. Flesh rent as she bit the man’s throat out. He flopped backwards, trying to breathe through the giant, ragged hole in his neck, but only succeeded in swallow blood.

Fareeha was on him in a second, punching wildly. He knocked her hands aside, flailing as he tried to both defend himself, and stop the flow of blood down his throat.

Seeing him injured and struggling for his life awoke something in Fareeha’s soul, driving reasonable thought from her brain. She could only focus on three things: feeding, fucking, and sleeping.

And Fareeha had a hunger.

Seeing his exposed face, Fareeha spat out his throat and lunged forward, mouth open and teeth bared. Those teeth latched onto his nose, and she _bit_. Her eyes dilated as she felt the cartilage crunch under her teeth, her heart roared as his blood filled her mouth.

But the nose didn’t have any meat on it.

She shook her head, tearing his nose off. The Talon man screamed, or tried to. With the hole in his neck, it came out a gurgle. Fareeha spat his nose out, and went back for more meat. By then he had lost so much blood, he couldn’t even thrash. With his hands dropping to the ground, Fareeha grabbed his face, and sunk her teeth into his cheeks.

The soft flesh of his face resisted for a second, but soon gave way. Feeling the meat part under her teeth filled Fareeha with pleasure. The Talon man thought himself a beast, but he paled against a true apex huntress. His strength gone, weakness filled him.

And the weak were meat that the strong do eat.

Fareeha pressed her hands against his head. She shook her head, tearing the flesh from his bones, until she broke away with the savory piece of his face. Her entire mouth was full of the Talon man, but that just made her chew all the faster. She shifted the piece of the Talon man to the back of her mouth, grinding his meat against her molars, relishing the feeling of the meat being broken down, splintering along the striations as she chewed. Fareeha swallowed, and went back for more. There wasn’t much left on one side of his face, so she took a bite from the other side, tearing it off with disgusting, thrilling ease.

A hand grabbed her shoulder. She spun around, only to come face-to-face with Angela.

“Fareeha, he’s dead,” the doctor smiled. “You got him.”

Her heart still hammered wildly in her chest. Fareeha was locked into the acme of her being.

“You must like how he tastes,” Angela giggled.

Blinking, Fareeha realized she still had a mouthful of his cheek. She staggered to her feet, the world in a haze. Where was she? What happened? But the piece of flesh she had in her mouth tasted so good…Fareeha tried to get control of her breath as she chewed the piece of cheek, relishing the fatty piece of flesh in her mouth before she swallowed it down.

The Talon man gagged, blood bubbling out of his ruined face and neck as he tried to cough it out, but it only delayed his drowning.

“Oh, I guess he’s not dead yet,” Angela said. “Give it a little time, he’ll come around.”

“H-how did you get up here?” Fareeha gasped, licking up the blood on her hands.

“One of the newest additions to my suit is short-ranged flight,” Angela said, triggering the angelic wings on her back. “I can fly like a guardian angel! You’re lucky I got a bead on you; I was barely able to make it up here.”

Angela stepped forward, wiping some of the blood off of her face. The Talon man went limp, drowning.

“But it looks like you didn’t need my help,” she smiled, unperturbed by the bits of flesh that were stuck in her teeth. If anything, she was breathing harder at the sight. “You look like a dog with all those bits in there.”

Fareeha’s mind was still locked in the most basic of instincts. She still didn’t need to sleep, and she had just fed. She grabbed Angela, kissing her deeply, moving on to the third thing hardwired into her brain.

“Oh, I think I can taste the adrenaline,” Angela grinned wickedly as Fareeha broke off the kiss. She licked some of the blood off her cheek. “Mmm…now there’s a taste.”

Fareeha pulled her forward again, but Angela placed a hand on her shoulder. For some reason, that was able to stop her.

“No biting me now,” she giggled. “It might be a little hard to explain.”

Fareeha realized she still had ragged pieces of flesh in her teeth. She tried to pick it out, swallowing what she could.

“Still, it seems like a real waste to simply let this go,” Angela said, looking at the recently deceased Talon soldier. “I don’t want to lose another finger to your dacnomania.”

“But you taste so good,” Fareeha pleaded.

“No, and that’s final,” Angela laughed.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing he’s not using his fingers,” Fareeha said. She picked up the discarded knife, and was about to start carving when Angela knelt down to help.

“Cutting through an arm is a bitch,” she said. “Trust me, I’ve had to amputate my fair share of limbs. Cut there. No, a little further up, that should get you to the joint. We don’t have a bone saw, so you’ll have to get right at the joint.”

Fareeha worked feverishly, swept up in the moment.

“We’re so lucky you’re so strong,” Angela cooed. “This isn’t take long at all.”

Angela reached into a pocket, and pulled out a bio-hazard marked plastic bag.

“Put it in here for now. When we get back to the ship, I can put it in a much bigger bag,” she said, crushing a few ice packs to keep the arm cool and preserved.

“Why are you helping me?” Fareeha asked, picking the flesh from her teeth.

“I told you, I think it’s time for a little Cruelty,” she smiled. “Besides, you look so beautiful with blood on your face. Like a lovely attack dog.”

Fareeha’s gaze flickered over Angela’s shoulder. She spotted an ancient statue in the distance.

“Anubis,” she smiled. “Not just an attack dog, but the dog that judges the dead.”

“Ooh, I love that,” Angela said, licking more blood off her lips. “And how do you judge him?”

“Delicious.”

“I love it,” Angela laughed.

“I’m glad you love it, my cruel angel,” Fareeha smiled, stealing a kiss. “Just one thing.”

She gathered her rocket launcher and took a shot at the body.

“Pink mist is expected when you deal with high explosives,” she said. “Now they won’t think to ask why an arm is missing, or his face is chewed up.”

“You’re so hot when you’re being devious,” Angela grinned wickedly.


	3. Chapter 3

Fareeha sat on the counter of a lab table, chewing on some jerky. She was watching Angela work, walking to and from various tabletops in her lab.

“I’m not boring you, am I my Anubis?” Angela asked.

Fareeha shivered with pleasure hearing Angela call her that.

“Never,” she beamed. “I used to sneak peeks at you when I was younger; now I can do it without having to worry about being caught.”

“You’re too much,” Angela laughed. “You’re also chewing on your thumb, yes?”

Fareeha hissed, pulling her hand from her mouth. She had spent so much time running her incisor along the skin by her cuticle, drops of blood were welling out. She went back to chewing her thick strip of jerky.

“Fucking mania.”

“Forget a muzzle, maybe I should get you a chew toy,” Angela laughed.

“Don’t you dare,” Fareeha snapped. “Aren’t you worried that you might mess up whatever it is you’re working on?”

“I can do this in my sleep,” Angela said.

“Speaking of which, what is it you’re working on?”

“A way to regrow the finger _someone _so cruelly amputated and ate.”

“It was just one time!”

“Then let’s hope it can stay as a one-time-thing,” she giggled. “Scientists have used extracellular matrices to help promote stem cell creation for years, but were never able to scale it up to full body parts; the most we could do was regrow a fingertip. I had an idea to increase the potency with my nanobiotic particles. In theory, I should be able to regrow my eaten finger.”

“You’re gonna rub that in all the time?” Fareeha grumbled.

“Would you blame me if I said yes?”

“You really are Cruelty!”

“And you haven’t answered my question. Would you blame me?”

“…No,” Fareeha blushed.

“Good.” Angela, Cruelty, said as she stole a quick kiss. That made Fareeha feel a little better. She finished her jerky. “The thing is, this is all still very much theory.”

“But you’re going to test it?”

“Of course. I miss my finger.”

“Aren’t there rules about testing unproven things on people?”

“Oh, there are textbooks that cover that,” Angela said. “Fortunately, I know the risks, I wasn’t put under duress to agree to them, and I am aware of everything that is going to be done to me, such as side effects. It’s perfectly legal to test it on yourself, it’s just not recommended.”

“Moira really did rub off on you.”

“I guess she has!”

Angela took a vial of powder and walked to her Caduceus. She poured some powder on the stump of her finger, and gave herself a dose of nanobiotic particles. She hissed in pain.

“Are you alright?”

“Fuck, feels like fire,” she groaned. “M-must be the nerves being engaged. God!”

She stopped, shaking her finger off. Fareeha walked over, looking at it. The stump had become red and inflamed, but at the same time, there seemed to be a little extra there.

“Looks like the bones really like the dose,” Angela said. “It’s already starting to grow back.”

“So it works?”

“Initially, yes, but I’ll have to keep an eye on it to make sure it keeps working. Stop biting your hand, I don’t think I could grow back a thumb yet.”

Fareeha pulled her hand out of her mouth.

“Then since this thing works, can I eat another one of your fingers?”

Angela glared at her for that.

“Come on, you taste _good!_” Fareeha, Anubis, couldn’t help but smile.

“You know, we do have a perfectly good severed arm you can bite,” she coldly replied. “Or you could get another strip of jerky.”

“Like I could walk around biting a severed arm,” Anubis snorted. “What would people say if they walked in on that?”

* * *

“Fucking God, that’s disgusting!” Lena shouted. “Fuck! Just…God, that is so bloody twisted!”

“We get it, you find it gross,” Fareeha said.

“I mean, just look! Oh, it’s bleeding and twitching!”

“It _is_ a body part, it’s supposed to do that.”

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Lena cursed, but she continued to stare. “Shit, just…!”

“You know, Lena, you don’t _have_ to look,” Angela sighed.

“I know! But I can’t stop! Just…fuck! It’s like a train wreck!”

“Fine, I’ll put it away,” Angela said, wrapping up her regrowing pinky in gauze.

“I have to say, that is incredible,” Winston said. “Amplifying the extracellular matrix with nanobiotics was a brilliant idea. However, I’m not sure how ethical it is.”

“The extracellular matrix was made with donated pig bladder, and I am a willing participant who knows all of the risks associated with the procedure,” Angela coolly replied.

“That may be the case, but you are brushing against some very serious laws.”

“Winston, can you not be glad that our doctor is growing her finger back?” Reinhardt said. “Even though it is a…little disgusting.”

“A little?!” Lena demanded, pointing at Angela’s hand. “Did you not see it??”

“We all saw it,” Jack sighed.

“Good Lord, I mean…can I see it again?”

“No, Lena,” Angela laughed.

“But it’s so bloody disgusting!”

Jack gently led Lena away, while Winston merely chuckled.

“It looks like you're almost done regrowing your entire finger. How fast is it regrowing?” He asked.

“Three centimeters, and I started treatment three days ago.”

“Fascinating. And how does it feel?”

“It stings like a motherfucker,” Angela spat.

That drew a hearty laugh from everyone, especially Lena.

“Looks like re-growing a finger is hard work,” Jack laughed. “Are you eating enough?”

“Fareeha and I have been kicking up our protein intake,” Angela smiled. “We decided to make some meat pies.”

“Damn, you turning British on us?” Lena smiled. “Mind if I try a bit?”

“Sorry, we only have a little left. We’re trying to save it for ourselves.”

“I guess re-growing a limb is hard work,” Lena said. “Damn, now I got a hankering for some meat pies. And listening to _Sweeney Todd _again.”

“I hope you don’t mean that Johnny Depp version,” Angela cringed. “I mean, he’s good I guess, but he just can’t sing.”

“Hell no, I’m talkin’ ‘bout the original Broadway musical recording. Stephen Sondheim is a gorram genius! But at least the costuming and set design for the movie adaptation was good.”

“True. You can tell they put a lot of hard work into it.”

“Speaking of hard work,” Jack said, “everyone here has been working their asses off getting Overwatch back up and running. I think we earned ourselves some time off. Angela, Fareeha, are you two used to taking vacations, or are the both of you workaholics?”

“I think I can persuade Fareeha into taking some time off,” Angela smiled. “But I’d like to wait until my finger has completely grown back.”

“Then once you got a new finger, take four days off. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir,” Fareeha grinned. She was already thinking of things she could do with Angela.

* * *

Fareeha sighed as she leaned back in the beach chair, taking a pull of her ice cold mojito. She adjusted her sunglasses, which dimmed down the sunlight of the Ilos beach. The weather was absolutely perfect, sunny but not oppressively hot, no humidity to speak of, and they had a very pleasant breeze that never seemed to stop blowing.

“Buying a private plane, setting us up in the most expensive hotel in Greece, if I knew how rich you were, I would’ve gotten with you a lot sooner,” Fareeha laughed.

“Don’t go gold digging with me,” Angela laughed. She lay next to Fareeha in her own beach chair.

“Too late, I’ll never go back to flying coach again.”

“It will be hard,” Angela giggled. “I guess all this wealth comes with being the creator of the revolutionary nanobiotic particles. Oh, and how do you like your new swim suit?”

“More like a sports bikini,” Fareeha said. Her swim suit came in two-parts. The bottom was like a mix between boy shorts and performance compression shorts, her top was like a sports bra. It was cute, and very practical. “But I do love it.”

“I’m glad,” Angela smiled. Her own swimsuit was a one-piece, red with white trim. Even when she was relaxing, she looked like a lifeguard, a protector. “I was surprised we found one to your liking in the store.”

“I’m not a girly-girl.”

“I could tell!”

Fareeha had the feeling that Angela was staring at her muscles. She adjusted herself, while secretly flexing.

“I’m surprised they didn’t throw me out of that store. It was _way _too rich for my blood.”

“You’re not the only one,” Angela said, licking her lips as her eyes roved over Fareeha’s body. “Still, money talks, and thanks to my nanoparticles I have a lot of it. In fact, I can’t give it away fast enough!”

Fareeha laughed, and popped another chocolate coconut ball in her mouth. They were frozen, making the chocolate exterior quite hard. She rolled the ball into the back of her mouth, slowly increasing the pressure until the chocolate shell _cracked _under her molars, crushing the cold coconut flesh between her teeth.

It wasn’t the best thing she wanted to bite, but the sugar distracted her well enough.

“I love your swimsuit,” Fareeha said, “but couldn’t you get something a little more revealing…?”

“I would’ve liked to,” Angela sighed, “but _someone_ just had to take a bite out of my chest a few days ago. I need to cover it up, and this suit does just that.”

“Good thing you can heal bigger body parts,” she smiled.

“Yes, but it’s still healing! I can’t walk around with a piece of my body missing.”

Fareeha, Anubis, giggled.

“Fine, I’ll go easier on you next time.”

“You better, or Cruelty might want to talk to you.”

Fareeha took another pull of her mojito, and leaned back. She soon lost track of time as they lounged around, but eventually Angela called it.

“God, I’m done,” she said, sitting up.

“Can’t take a little sun?”

“I’m not a dark-skinned Egyptian goddess, unlike someone.”

“But it’s a good thing you got your hands on one, yes?”

Angela leaned over to kiss her.

“Was there any doubt?”

Fareeha pulled her close and got another kiss out of her. They gathered up their belongings into bags, draped their robes over their shoulders, and walked to the hotel hand in hand.

“No, let’s walk the boardwalk a bit,” Fareeha said. “It’s such a nice day.”

“Fine,” Angela smiled, taking her hand.

Fareeha felt like she was flying away as they made their way down the street. That was odd, there was more traffic about an hour ago. The street should be full of cars, but only a handful were there.

She looked at the shops, and saw only a few people. Then Fareeha’s eyes locked on a man in a shop. He wore a long-sleeved shirt, pants, and a simple jacket, clothing too heavy for the warm weather. Then, a few shops ahead, there was another man in heavier clothes.

Her stomach dropped, and her heart rate picked up.

“Angela…”

“Is something coming?”

“You could tell?”

“Habit from the war zones,” she said. “You get a feeling when something is going to happen. Is it those men in the stores?”

“It is,” Fareeha said. With her free hand, she slyly reached into her bag to put a hand on her pistol. She wanted to bring an assault rifle with her, but Greece only let her bring a side arm, and even that was because she was still technically employed by Helix. If she was fully with Overwatch, they might not be let into the country. Greece never did get along with Overwatch.

“Dammit,” Angela hissed. She reached into her bag as well.

“You’ve got a gun?”

“Never leave home without it.”

“Let me guess: war zone etiquette?”

“Of course. There have been plenty of times it saved my life.”

“Good. Follow my lead, we’re going back to the hotel.”

Her heart was pumping in her chest as Fareeha mentally shifted to ‘security chief’ mode. She took Angela by the hand and turned around, walking fast, with a purpose. She growled as she saw another jacket-wearing man in front of them; he must have been following them since they left the beach. He saw her, and said something into his cuff. It was a microphone; the trap was sprung.

She pulled out her pistol just as the man was reaching into his jacket to pull out a shotgun. She was a faster draw, and put three bullets in his heart.

Whatever civilians were left on the street ran at the sound of the gunfire. Fareeha made sure she had a good grip on Angela’s hand, and broke into a run.

The man either wore a ballistic vest, or was too damn lucky to survive her shots; he was on the ground, groaning, trying to get up. Fareeha put a bullet in his head, and grabbed his discarded shotgun.

“Move,” she yelled. Bullets started flying over their heads, but thanks to her years working for Helix, Fareeha was cool and collected. “Into the shops!”

“We need to get to the hotel.”

“We’ll never make it, we’re too exposed!”

She pulled Angela into a nearby shop. The customers were screaming bloody murder and the owner was yelling at them. He stopped when he saw the shotgun in her hands, and ran for the rear door.

The shop sold touristy things; beach blankets, t-shirts, and other various souvenirs. Their mysterious assailants started opening up on the store, cutting things down with bullets. Fareeha urged Angela onto her knees, almost crawling as they went deeper into the store.

The various stalls and wooden counters wouldn’t block a bullet, but they would block line of sight. Fareeha was counting on that; she led Angela to the back of the store, where she saw an open door leading to the beach.

She carefully made her way out of the door, and came face to face with two more assailants. The shotgun in her hands was fancy, a semi-auto; it roared as she blew them away.

“This way,” she said, taking a step out.

“Back!” Angela pulled her back inside, just as a burst of bullets hit the wall where she used to stand. There were a few more men making their way to the store.

“Shit! We’re surrounded!”

Angela peaked over the bullet ridden counter and let loose a few shots.

“One down,” she grinned, ducking for cover. A burst of bullets tore through the spot she once was at. Fareeha peaked outside the store’s rear entrance and gunned down two more men.

“Can’t be much left now.”

Something popped, and smoke filled the store.

“Fuck! Smoke grenade!”

Her eyesight was cut to nothing. Fareeha did her best not to cough, then a boot shot out, kicking the shotgun out of her hands. She looked up at the man who had her dead to rights.

Angela screamed like a banshee as she ran head-long into the man. The gun in his hands went off. Fareeha felt the heat of the bullet singe her skin as it passed by her, barely missing her. The man was driven down to ground, hitting with a heavy thud, then screamed as Angela climbed on him and swept her hands across his chest.

“You do not touch my Fareeha!” She screamed. It took Fareeha a second to realize that Angela had a scalpel in her hands as she cut at the man’s chest and face.

Fareeha grabbed the shotgun, and leaned out of the door, taking out one last enemy. The beach was secure, so she crawled to the front of the store. By then, the smoke was fading; no one else was on the streets.

Angela was still going to town on the man. Fareeha put a hand on her shoulder.

“Angela, we got them all. Angela.”

She ignored her, and kept cutting the man.

“Cruelty!”

Finally she stopped, and looked at Fareeha.

“We got him.”

Gasping, her face painted with rage and blood splatter, Cruelty finally stopped. The man she was on top of was groaning, his chest and parts of his face were awash with shallow cuts. He was down, but not out. Fareeha felt her heart swell with love.

“You saved me,” she smiled.

“Of course. You’re my everything,” Cruelty said.

Fareeha pulled her into a deep embrace, kissing her wildly, licking at the blood on her face.

“Not now,” Cruelty giggled. “I have to kill this man.”

“Wait,” Fareeha said. “He’s the last one standing. We need to question him before the cops take him away. Do you know where we can find a quiet room where no one will hear him scream?”

“Are you kidding? Greece still hasn’t recovered from the 2009 financial crisis. You can buy anything here if you have the money.”

“Then it’s a good thing you have a lot of money, isn’t it?” Fareeha grinned madly.

An equally fierce smile sprouted on Cruelty’s full lips.

“Yes, it _is _good, isn’t it?”

* * *

Matthew groaned, slowly coming around. Where was he? Last he remembered, that crazy bitch Angela was tackling him, cutting him. But he didn’t feel any cuts on him. Did the doctor use her nanoparticles on him?

He tried to move, but his arms were tied down. He tried to move his feet, but they were similarly bound. He couldn’t even sit up, a belt was stretched across his chest and waist. He was strapped to a table. His right hand felt strange. It was completely numb, but he felt it twisting and moving, and he wasn’t the one moving it.

“Ah, he’s awake.”

Matthew realized he was in a dark room. The only light came from small windows sitting at head height; it looked like a basement. Angela Ziegler stood over him on his left side.

“What the fuck…?”

His right hand jerked again, accompanied by a crunching sound. He tried to look at it.

“Shh shh shh.” Ziegler gently, but firmly, turned his head to the left to face her, keeping him from looking at his right hand. “No need to look there now.”

Matthew’s brain kicked into gear. He was captured. That meant he would be interrogated.

“Goddammit, caught by a fucking doctor?” He groaned. “This is embarrassing.”

“A doctor and her protector,” Ziegler smiled. “You ruined our vacation. Tell me why.”

“My face…I don’t feel any cuts on it.”

“Thanks to my Caduceus, you don’t.”

“You think this’ll buy you a favor, get on my good side? I’m not telling you shit.”

“I think you will.”

“Please,” Matthew laughed. “I know how this—“

Something tugged at his right hand.

“What the…”

“No need to look, not now,” Zeigler said, shushing him while gently placing her hand on his cheek, forcing him to look to his left. “You were saying how you know something.”

“I know how this goes,” Matthew said. “Overwatch has too many rules. You’ll try to throw the book at me, offer to make deals, all to get me to talk. It’s bullshit, you got no teeth.”

Something to his right chuckled. He both heard it, and felt it through his numbed hand.

“What the fuck is up with my hand?” He tried to look to his right again, but Ziegler stopped him again.

“Local anesthesia,” she smiled, keeping his head tilted to the left. “And you seem to know a lot about Overwatch. How do you know so much?”

“I’m not telling you shit. You can’t do anything to me, Mercy,” Matthew said, spitting out Ziegler's call-sign.

“I’m not Mercy,” she chuckled. “Not now, anyways. It would be better to call me Cruelty.”

“’Cruelty?’” Matthew roared. “Fucking spare me! How goddamn cheesy is that?!”

“It certainly is dramatic, but I feel it is appropriate,” she said, that smile still on her lips.

“Then where’s your bitch?”

“It’s funny you say ‘bitch,’” Ziegler giggled. “Fareeha really is like a dog. Loyal, lovely, and fiercely protective of me. But like Angela, she’s not here right now; you can call her Anubis.”

“God, have you heard yourself?” Matthew sputtered.

“Anubis is more wild,” Ziegler said, ignoring him. “I should be glad she’s housebroken!”

There was a chuckle from his right side, and Ziegler finally let him look to his right.

Fareeha Amari sat at the table, eating his hand. Bits of skin and flesh were torn off, with teeth marks gouging whatever skin was left. His fingers were picked clean; two were already missing. Amari looked up, his middle finger in her mouth, his blood covering her face, her pupils the size of dining plates. She grinned, and twisted her head, biting the third digit off. The familiar crunching sound reached Matthew’s ears as his stomach heaved.

“Doggie likes to bite,” she said with a feral grin, his finger sticking out of her mouth.

“What the fuck?” Matthew screamed, thrashing about. But the restraints held him tight. “What the fuck?!”

He cried as he saw Amari peel the flesh of his finger. He sobbed as she chewed, and he screamed as she swallow it before discarding the bones. He twisted his hand up; the only fingers that were left was his thumb and ring finger, and they were picked down to the bone and sinew. Everything else was a mess of bleeding, gnawed flesh. His stomach rolled, and he vomited.

“I told you, Anubis is more wild,” Ziegler laughed. She used a rag to clean his mouth.

“Help!” Matthew screamed. “Help! Somebody, help me!!”

“No one can hear you. I paid a very nice price for this privacy,” Ziegler with a malevolent smile. “It’s just you, me, and Anubis.”

His eyes wide, Matthew saw the crazy bitch take another bite of his hand. She bit slowly, like she was savoring this. She even moaned in pleasure as she bit off the flesh between his thumb and former index finger.

_She’s eating me,_ he realized. _She’s eating me, and I can’t stop her! She’s eating me, and she likes it!!_

“W-w-why can’t I feel anything?” He stammered, panic making his head swim.

“I told you, local anesthesia,” the sadistic Ziegler said. “But I had to make some assumptions with my dosage. I don’t know your weight, your muscle mass, body fat, so I’m not sure how much anesthesia to give you to keep the pain away.”

Matthew screamed as Anubis tore off another piece of his hand.

“Looks like it’s wearing off a little,” Ziegler said with a rictus grin. She reached over to pat Anubis’ head like she was some kind of dog. Anubis even moaned in pleasure at that. Then she took another bite of his hand.

“Stop, stop it!”

“I’m not going to stop my lovely Anubis.”

“You fucking psycho!”

“High-functioning sociopath,” the barbarous woman corrected. “There _is_ a difference.”

Matthew tied not to cry. But even that failed as he felt his numbed hand being bitten.

“Now, since the anesthesia is wearing off, I can give you more, maybe even some morphine if you do a good job helping us.”

Matthew found himself nodding.

“Ah, then we have something the other wants,” the cruel woman smiled.

“What the fuck are you saying, you fucking twisted bitch?!” He blubbered.

“Again, high-functioning sociopath,” she sighed. “We have painkillers, you have answers. Give us the answers we want, and I’ll give you more local anesthesia.” She held up a syringe. “But if you _really_ help us, I give you morphine.” She held up a different syringe.

“Burn in hell, psycho whore!”

Ziegler glared at him, and her face grew even more cold and cruel, if such a thing was possible. She pressed on the plunger of the syringe that had morphine, letting it squirt out, letting it soak on the floor, wasting it.

“H-h-high-functioning sociopath,” Matthew sobbed. “High-functioning sociopath!”

“I _knew _you were paying attention,” Cruelty said, that wicked smile returning to her face.

She pulled up a chair, and took out a notebook and pen. Matthew shrieked as he felt Anubis move up to his arm.

“Don’t worry,” Anubis grinned. “I might bite, but I only really take fingers.”

“Now, our questions,” Cruelty said pleasantly. It was like she was talking about the weather.

Matthew felt teeth sink into his forearm. He felt Anubis moan is pleasure as her teeth sunk into his skin, drinking his blood; the basement echoed with his caterwauling as she bit and tore at him.

“Let’s start small: what is your name?”


	4. Chapter 4

Cruelty took a moment to mop the sweat off her brow and enjoy the fresh air in the wilds of Greece. She pulled out her phone, found the number in the contacts list, and hit call. Jack answered within two seconds.

“Angela,” he gasped, his face filling the video call. “God dammit, it’s good to see you.”

“Did you miss me, Jack?” She smiled.

“Winston and Athena had gotten word of a gunfight at the hotel you and Fareeha were staying at; we feared the worst.”

“Yes, sorry to make you worry. We would’ve called sooner, but we had to make sure we’re safe.”

“I get that, I really do. Where are you?”

“Still in Greece, but I hired a helicopter to pick us up.”

“And it’s safe?”

“For the time, yes,” Cruelty said.

“Oh thank God,” he sighed. “What happened?”

“Talon attacked us, but we were able to fight them off.”

“How do you know they were Talon?”

“We got a few answers out of one soldier.”

“Angela, did you just question him? Like, ethically…?”

“No Jack, we tortured him to death, harvested his organs, and buried his body in an unmarked grave in the Greek wilderness.”

“Ha ha! Yeah, I guess that was a dumb question to ask Mercy,” Jack laughed. “Then the local authorities have him?”

“He’s never going to leave Greece,” Cruelty said.

“I figured as much. Not everyone in the world is glad that Overwatch is back. Shit, Greece never liked us even back in the good old days; no way they’d play ball with us now. They’ll probably hold onto him forever.”

“I told you, he’s never going to leave Greece.”

“Then it’s good that you got some answers from him.”

“Speaking of answers, we might have a leak,” Cruelty said. “It seems like someone knows of a few back doors in Overwatch’s network.”

“Fuck,” Jack spat. “That’s what Winston was fearing. Someone used an old code to gain entry to our network; a Blackwatch code. Him and Athena are working on figuring out the extent of this breech, but I think it’s best to assume that Talon knows of all our plans at the current time. I hate to break your vacation short, but you need to get back here, if only for your safety.”

“I chartered a private plane. We should be back in four or five hours.”

“Good. See you soon, Angela.”

Cruelty hung up the phone, just as Anubis broke through the brush, shovel and cooler in hand.

“Did you call Jack?” Anubis asked, brushing dirt off her pants.

“Yes. And I told you, the hole we dug was fine,” Cruelty said. “No one would find him.”

“Just checking,” Anubis said, mopping the sweat off her brow. “What did you tell him?”

“The truth. For some reason, he didn’t believe me.”

“I wonder why,” Anubis laughed. “And these coolers we got will do the job?”

“Of course. We used those exact models to transport organs back in the Red Cross.”

“And this helicopter you hired is on its way?”

“Should be here in twenty minutes.”

Cruelty jumped as Anubis snaked her arm around her, grabbing her ass.

“What are you doing?” She giggled.

“Twenty minutes should be just enough time,” Anubis breathed, pulling her close.

* * *

Angela walked through the base, carrying a bag of groceries, whistling a careless tune as she made her way back to her new quarters with Fareeha.

“Oy! Doc!”

She saw a brown-haired blur blink into and out of reality, until she came face-to-face with Lena.

“Heard Talon crashed your vacation,” Lena said. “Sorry that things got tossed tits up.”

“Thank you, Lena,” Angela smiled. “Fortunately, Fareeha was there to protect me.”

“Yeah, she’s a damn good security guard, ain’t she?” Lena smiled. “Speaking of which, what do you got in the bag?”

“On our trip back, Fareeha was browsing her feed and found a recipe for liver in sauteed mushrooms and gravy. It sounded interesting, so we’re trying it.”

“Liver, eh?” Lena grinned. “You got some fava beans and a nice Chianti?”

“Two, actually,” Angela smiled, pulling out two chilled bottles from her bag. She made sure that her special present was also securely in the bag.

“Ha! You know how to have fun!” Lena laughed. “And did you two make it official yet?”

“On the first day of our vacation. But I assume everyone already knew what was going on between us.”

“Little hard to ignore how you two were making eyes at each other,” Lena grinned. “Poor Fareeha seemed so taken aback and short on words when you were around; she must’ve been working up the courage to ask you.”

“In a way,” Angela smiled. “Speaking of couples, when are we going to meet this Emily of yours?”

“Probably once I know it’s safe to bring her here. First it was dodging being arrested by the UN, but now with this whole Talon data breach, ugh, I just don’t know.”

“That’s what makes you a great girlfriend, Lena. Always making sure it’s safe for your better half.”

“Thanks, luv,” Lena beamed. “You two are _super_ cute, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you! But you’ll have to excuse me; we’re having a man for dinner.”

“Alright Dr. Lecter, I’ll let you go,” Lena laughed, sauntering away. “Tell Fareeha I said hi!”

“I will,” Angela waved. She went back to whistling as she made her way back to the apartment she and Fareeha had gotten.

“I’m back,” she called, opening the door. The smell of cooking meat wafted across her nostrils. “Mmm, smells good.”

“Almost done,” Fareeha said from the kitchen.

Angela walked in, setting the bottles of Chianti on the table. She walked into the kitchen; Fareeha was putting the finishing touches on the fava beans.

“I never knew you could cook,” she said, stealing a kiss.

“Stick around, I’m full of surprises,” Fareeha grinned, kissing her back. “Sit down, there are plates on the table.”

Angela sat down, popping the cork on the first bottle. She also made sure her little gift was next to her. Fareeha came back, carrying a piping hot skillet on a hot plate.

“Is that the liver?”

“Swimming in mushrooms and gravy,” she said, serving Angela. “Not the special liver, though. That’s for me.”

“Curiosity is killing me; I’ll have to try some of your ‘special’ liver.”

“Fine, but only because I love you.”

Fareeha came back with a bowl of the fava beans, and her own plate. Sitting on it was a few slices of liver that looked very under cooked.

“You did cook that, yes?” Angela asked, her eyebrows arching.

“Just a little bit, enough to make it ‘fit for human consumption,’” Fareeha laughed.

“You like your meat raw?”

“I like it still struggling,” her lover breathed, the Fareeha persona slipping to reveal the true Anubis beneath.

Angela giggled as her Fareeha sat down opposite her.

“To a short but thrilling vacation,” Fareeha said, raising her glass.

“Prost,” Angela cheered. The Chianti was excellent.

“Well, what do you think?” Fareeha asked, taking a bite of her ‘special’ liver.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I was always a fan of a liverwurst, though. It’s not too bad, but I think I’d like it a little more cooked.”

“That’s the charm. Besides, it’s got a smoky taste to it, doesn’t it?” Fareeha/Anubis grinned; blood, grease, and gravy dripping down her chin as she ate.

“I guess?”

“Yes, an aged, smoky taste that belies its age. Truly a well-aged vintage.”

Angela cocked her eyebrow at that.

“I found a flask in Matthew’s bag,” Fareeha grinned. “Seems he liked some whiskey.”

“Oh you,” Angela laughed. She turned to her own properly cooked liver. The mushrooms and gravy was an excellent compliment to it, and the fava beans were quite delectable. The meal was lovely, and was soon finished.

“I got something for you,” Angela said.

“Funny,” Fareeha laughed, “I got something for you, too.”

“Let me go first.”

“Yes, dear.”

Angela giggled at that. She reached into her bag and pulled out her present. It was a square jewelry box a few inches thick. She handed it to Fareeha, who tore the top off.

Fareeha paused, then pulled out a t-bone squeak toy.

“Are you serious?” She said flatly.

“You need a chew toy,” Angela laughed. “After all, that little chunk you took out of me has only recently healed.”

She pulled down her shirt to where Fareeha had bitten off a piece of her last week. Thanks to her extracellular matrix and nanobiotic treatment, the skin was freshly rejuvenated without any scar to speak of.

“It’s not my fault you taste so good,” Fareeha huffed.

“It was just a joke, dear. There should be some padded cotton; look under that.”

Fareeha pulled the little square of cotton out of the box, and stopped dead. She pulled out a small, fine leather collar. It was black, no wider than the width of her finger, and ended with a small golden lock. There was gold lettering around the collar, stitching out three words for Anubis: first in English, then in Arabic, and finally in hieroglyphs.

“A little something for my darling Anubis,” Angela smiled.

“It’s beautiful…”

“The stitching is done in real gold thread, too.”

“Oh, I love it.”

Angela walked over to Fareeha. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out a key. Fareeha held up the collar, and Angela unlocked it. She slipped it on her neck, and closed it. The collar was tiny, no bigger than a choker one would get at a simple boutique store. It was unobtrusive, but still lovely.

“This feels like real high-quality leather.”

“Only the best for my girl,” Angela smiled, patting her head.

Fareeha, no, _Anubis_ melted at that. She wrapped Angela in a tight hug.

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” she smiled, kissing her Anubis.

“I got you something, too.”

Angela sat down as Anubis reached into her pocket. She pulled out a small box, and gave it to Angela. Opening it revealed two earrings.

They were not regular earrings. They were in the shape of wings, but they weren’t designed to hang from an earlobe. They started at the lobe, curved up, and rose to the top helix of the ear, forming wings. The wings swept back maybe an inch and a half where her ear would end. Angela was struck by them; they seemed to be a mixture of fine jewelry, and the kind of prosthetic ear an actor would wear when playing an elf in a fantasy movie.

But the two earrings were different. The right one had a backing made of what looked like white gold, and the feathers were made of true gold, formed like an angel wing. Etched in the topmost feather was the beautiful cursive word ‘Mercy,’ in what looked like silver.

The left was its opposite. While the right was modeled after an angel wing, the left was made to resemble a devil’s wing. The wing membrane was made from some black metal, and the skeletal bones of the wing were made of silver. Etched into the top most part of the wing, again in what looked like silver, was the cursive word ‘Cruelty.’

“These are lovely,” Angela said.

“I figured that since you have two sides, you can use these to show what kind of mood you’re in when you’re around me,” Anubis smiled. “Feeling like Mercy? Cover your left ear with your hair and let me see the angel wing. But if Cruelty wants to play…”

“Cover the angel wing and let my true color out,” she smiled.

The earrings had pins on the bottom for her piercings, and a simple hook at the top. She put them on and immediately covered the angelic Mercy wing with her hair, showing Cruelty.

“Feeling risqué?” Anubis grinned.

“I feel like I can be myself,” Cruelty said. “I don’t have to hide when I’m with you.”

Anubis took Cruelty’s hand.

“That’s real precious metal, you know,” Anubis said. “Gold and white gold for the Mercy wing, and black-stained iridium and silver for the Cruelty wing. The words are platinum.”

“That could not have come cheap.”

“Of course not! It set me back a full month worth of paychecks. But since I’m gold digging on you, I think I could splurge,” Anubis laughed.

“Oh, you’re too much,” Cruelty said, pulling her lover close.

“You know,” Anubis said, “I’m kind of glad that Talon is out there.”

“What do you mean?”

“For starters, they brought us together. Without Talon, Winston wouldn’t have initiated the recall order. Without Talon, I don’t think I’d have ever met Angela, let alone Cruelty.”

“And I’d never have met my lovely Anubis,” Cruelty smiled, holding her lover’s hand.

“Besides,” Anubis grinned toothily, “with Talon back, I’m sure a few more of their soldiers can go ‘missing’ whenever I get hungry.”

“You have the best ideas,” Cruelty smiled. “Now if you’re done eating, I’m going to tear your clothes off. And no biting this time, or I’ll stuff that squeaky toy in your mouth.”

“Make me,” Anubis laughed.

Cruelty grabbed the squeaky toy and made good on her promise. Anubis let her, and with every squeak, nearly reduced Cruelty to stitches as they made their way to their bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!


End file.
